aught else in the world.”

“Yea, it is a goodly song,” said Robin Hood; “but methought those two burly beggars told the merrier tales and led the merrier life. Dost thou not remember what that great black-bearded fellow told of his begging at the fair in York?”

“Yea,” said Little John, “but what told the friar of the Harvest-home in Kentshire? I hold that he led a merrier life than the other two.”

“Truly, for the honor of the cloth,” quoth Friar Tuck, “I hold with my good gossip, Little John.”

“Now,” quoth Robin, “I hold to mine own mind. But what sayst thou, Little John, to a merry adventure this fair day? Take thou a friar’s gown from our chest of strange garments, and don the same, and I will stop the first beggar I meet and change clothes with him. Then let us wander the country about, this sweet day, and see what befalls each of us.”

“That fitteth my mind,” quoth Little John, “so let us forth, say I.”

Thereupon Little John and Friar Tuck went to the storehouse of the band, and there chose for the yeoman the robe of a gray friar. Then they came forth again, and a mighty roar of laughter went up, for not only had the band never seen Little John in such guise before, but the robe was too short for him by a good palm’s breadth. But Little John’s hands were folded in his loose sleeves, and Little John’s eyes were cast upon the ground, and at his girdle hung a great, long string of beads.

Little John putteth on the robes of a gray friar, and he and Robin Hood set forth in quest of adventures.

“Tut, tut!” quoth Friar Tuck, nudging him with his elbow, “look not down in that way; raise thine eyes boldly, or else all will know thee to be a cheat, and ne‘er a lass will give thee a smile, and ne’er a goodwife a crust, in all the countryside.” At this all laughed again, swearing that never was there so strapping a friar in all merry England as Little John made.

And now Little John took up his stout staff, at the end of which hung a chubby little leathern pottle, such as palmers carry at the tips of their staves; but in it was something, I wot, more like good Malmsey than cold spring water, such as godly pilgrims carry. Then up rose Robin and took his stout staff in his hand, likewise, and slipped ten golden angels into his pouch; for no beggar’s garb was among the stores of the band, so he was fain to run his chance of meeting a beggar and buying his clothes of him.

So, all being made ready, the two yeomen set forth on their way, striding lustily along all in the misty morning. Thus they walked down the forest path until they came to the highway, and then along the highway till it split in twain, leading on one hand to Blyth and on the other to Gainsborough. Here the yeomen stopped.

Robin Hood and Little John part at the forking of the roads.

Quoth Jolly Robin, “Take thou the road to Gainsborough, and I will take that to Blyth. So, fare thee well, holy father, and mayst thou not ha’ cause to count thy beads in earnest ere we meet again.”

“Good den, good beggar that is to be,” quoth Little John, “and mayst thou have no cause to beg for mercy ere I see thee next.”

So each stepped sturdily upon his way until a green hill rose between them, and the one was hid from the sight of the other.

Little John walked along, whistling, for no one was nigh upon all the road. In the budding hedges the little birds twittered merrily, and on either hand the green hills swept up to the sky, the great white clouds of springtime sailing slowly over their crowns in lazy flight. Up hill and down dale walked Little John, the fresh wind blowing in his face and his robes fluttering behind him, and so at last he came to a cross-road that led to Tuxford. Here he met three pretty lasses, each bearing a basket of eggs to market. Quoth he, “Whither away, fair maids?” And he stood in their path, with his legs apart, holding his staff in front of them, to stop them.

Little John falleth in with three pretty lasses.

Then they huddled together and nudged one another, and one presently spake up and said, “We